Jessica Woodville | Memoir & Musings

TW: This post discusses sexual assault, PTSD, and trauma anniversaries. If these topics are triggering for you, please take care while reading or consider skipping this post. You are not alone—if you need support, please reach out to someone you trust or check the resources at the end of this post.

It has been almost 19 years. Nearly two decades since that night. You’d think that would be enough time for the memories to dull, for my body to stop reacting like it’s happening all over again. But trauma anniversaries don’t care about time. They creep up, uninvited, their weight pressing down with the same suffocating force as before.

I wrote about this in my memoir. The night I couldn’t process for years. The night I wouldn’t even allow myself to name.

I had been asleep in our shared bed when he stumbled in, drunk and loud, demanding I celebrate with him. His words were slurred, his movements aggressive. When I said no, he pulled me out of bed and into the closet. “Celebrate with me,” he insisted, ignoring my pleas to stop. The pain was excruciating. My voice shook as I begged him. But he didn’t stop.

In the aftermath, I convinced myself it wasn’t what it was. Because he was my boyfriend. Because it happened in our home. Because who would believe me? I carried that silence like a second skin, thinking that if I didn’t say it out loud, I wouldn’t have to fully face it. But silence doesn’t heal wounds. It only deepens them.

And now, 19 years later, the weight of that night still presses against my chest, especially as this time of year rolls around.

The Layers of Trauma and the Weight of Time

I’ve spent years talking about this in therapy. Years unpacking what happened, understanding that I was raped, that it doesn’t matter that I didn’t fight, that my lack of resistance didn’t mean consent.

But knowing something intellectually and processing the emotions beneath it are two different things.

This is the part of healing I haven’t fully faced yet—the feelings under the layers of protection I’ve built up over the years. The fear. The rage. The deep, aching grief for the version of me who didn’t know how to escape, who had to sit in the reality of what had just happened and smoke a cigarette, frozen in her own body. The version of me who tried to make the memory go away any way she could.

When the Past Collides with the Present

This weekend, I have to step back into that world, in a way. I have a memorial to attend where I’ll be surrounded by people from that time in my life. Not him, thankfully. But people who were complicit in his actions. People who knew, or should have known.

The thought of it makes my stomach turn. Because while I am no longer the same person who sat frozen on that porch, I am still the person who carries the echoes of what happened.

But this time, I have a plan.

I have an exit strategy. I don’t have to force myself to stay longer than I can handle. I have grounding techniques to keep me present, to remind me that I am safe. And most of all, I have the truth: he can’t hurt me again.

The Next Step: Facing the Feelings

Next week, I’ll be doing Accelerated Resolution Therapy (ART) with Dr. Nick. ART is a type of trauma therapy that helps reprocess traumatic memories, easing their grip on the nervous system. I don’t know exactly what will come up in that session, but I do know that it’s time to face this in a deeper way.

Because healing isn’t about pretending something doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s about learning how to hold that pain without letting it control you.

For Those Who Still Carry Their Trauma

If you’re reading this and you’ve been through something similar, if your trauma anniversaries still hit like a ton of bricks, if you find yourself wondering why it still hurts after all these years—you are not broken.

Healing isn’t about erasing the past. It’s about learning how to live alongside it without losing yourself in the process.

If you’re still struggling, you’re not alone. You never were. And you don’t have to carry it in silence.

Please know that help is available. You are not alone.

• RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) – 24/7 National Sexual Assault Hotline: 800-656-HOPE (4673) or www.rainn.org
• Crisis Text Line – Text HOME to 741741 to connect with a trained crisis counselor
• National Domestic Violence Hotline – Call 800-799-SAFE (7233) or visit www.thehotline.org
• International Resources – If you’re outside the U.S., RAINN’s international directory has resources for many countries.

You are worthy of support, safety, and peace.